


two worlds collide

by bluemccns



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Other, princess protection program au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 10:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11896191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemccns/pseuds/bluemccns
Summary: to save herself and her country, princess allura from the kingdom of altea is to blend in with the people of a small american town, which proves to be much more difficult than she and her hosts could have anticipated.





	two worlds collide

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is based on the disney channel movie, princess protection program, though there may be some minor plot changes to better suit the cast of characters i'm working with. that being said, i hope you enjoy my garbage.

_You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view . . . until you climb into his skin and walk around in it._

            Keith hummed, the current page of To Kill a Mockingbird held lightly between fingertips left exposed by black biker gloves. The book rested on the worn, wooden counter at the front of his brother’s bait shop, and himself, on a rickety old stool. There was nothing quite like an early morning session of cramming for English in a shack that perpetually smelled of earthworms, though Keith supposed there was no one to blame but himself for not bothering to finish the chapter. He didn’t _mean_ to wind up somehow watching YouTube videos of various common household objects being dunked in sulfuric acid. It just kind of happened.

            His focus wound up drifting from Harper Lee’s words that had begun to blur on the page to the fact that an iPhone 6 could somehow still function after an acid bath. There came the fleeting urge to scour the shop for something potentially phone-melting, but logic told him that one; a bait and tackle shop was not the place for deadly chemicals, and two; he had better get focusing if he wanted to have a prayer at passing the chapter quiz he’d be having later. His teacher always included quotes in her quizzes, which was pure evil if you asked him. He _could_ have taken the easy class and just drawn an Atticus Finch stick figure for a passing grade, but _some_ people insisted he was “better than that” and needed to “apply himself.” Keith groaned, snapping the book shut and putting his head down. There was always SparkNotes.

            “Hey.”

Keith lifted his head in an instant to see Rolo leaning against the counter, long fingers drumming against the wood. Brown eyes looked down at him, and warmth immediately flooded Keith’s face as he scrambled off the stool.

“Oh, shit. Right,” Keith mumbled, scurrying to one of the shelves inside the shop and producing a container of worms. He slid it to Rolo, who took it gratefully.

“Free bait in exchange for never taking the bus again.” Keith sighed, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and strode to keep up with Rolo, who was already stalking toward his car.

He was nearly out of the driveway when a hand clapped down on his shoulder, causing him to gasp and nearly fall over.

“Shiro!” Keith whisper-yelled, giving his older brother a glare.

In turn, Shiro laughed. “Oh, relax. I won’t embarrass you.”

“It’s not like that,” Keith shot back.

“Of course it isn’t.” Shiro smiled fondly, and it made Keith angrier, because he couldn’t _actually_ be angry at him.

“Whatever.”

“Have fun.”

Keith rolled his eyes and shrugged him off, kicking into a light jog to catch up with Rolo, who was already seated in the car. Just as he was about to reach for the passenger door handle, Keith noticed someone riding shotgun: Nyma.

“What is _she_ doing here?” Keith asked, trying and failing to keep the blatant disgust out of his tone.

“Rolo’s giving me a ride to school,” she chirped, her high, perky pigtails bouncing with her motions as she turned to smile at the boy in the driver’s seat. “Isn’t that sweet?”

“Uh, sure,” Keith replied, opening one of the back doors instead only to find multiple dresses slung over the small back seat. “What the hell?”

“Sorry,” Nyma replied in a sing-song voice, “I didn’t want to risk wrinkling my after-lunch outfit. Oh, and it’s always good to have backups.”

“This is high school,” Keith grumbled, “not Vegas. You don’t need a damn costume change.”

Nyma giggled. “True, but you should consider one.”

Keith growled, fighting the impulse to reach through the window and drag her out by one of those stupid pigtails. He looked to Rolo, who just shrugged.

“Sorry, Keith. Maybe next time.”

With that, he drove away, leaving Keith with nothing but humiliation twisting his gut and Shiro’s eyes boring into his back. The fact that his brother just watched him make an idiot of himself only made the situation suck more than it already did, and Keith wished he could magically disappear to save himself from the inevitable pep talk. Magic, just like common human decency apparently, did not exist, and so he was left to begrudgingly ask Shiro for a ride to school. As expected, he happily obliged, pulling open the door to his battered old truck for Keith, who insisted he could have done it himself. The younger practically threw himself into the seat, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

“You want to talk about it?” Shiro asked over the sound of the engine sputtering to life.

“No.”

Keith didn’t need to open his eyes to know Shiro was looking at him with eyes full of pity. The thought made him want to throw open the door and hurl. He wished he would just drop it, but Shiro wasn’t the type to let things go so easily when it came to family and friends. Keith wished he’d be a little more like that when it came to his own personal well-being, but his brother remained infuriatingly selfless as ever.

“Are you sure? Because—”

A soft, steady beep from the console interrupted Shiro before Keith could. Keith cracked his eyes open, already knowing what that sound meant but hoping by some miracle it could have been something else. He watched Shiro grab for the tiny Bluetooth he kept in one of the cup holders and clip it to his ear.

“This is Shirogane.”

Keith watched him switch personas from caring older sibling to dutiful agent in about a millisecond. With a sigh, he sank down lower into his seat and crossed his arms. He knew what was to come the second Shiro disconnected from the call, and he dreaded it. Dark eyes gazed out the window, and beside him, he could hear Shiro’s brief answers of “yes, sir” and “uh-huh.” Each one was like a knife being twisted in Keith’s gut.

“Of course. Goodbye.”

There was a long pause once Shiro hung up; tension saturated the small space until Keith decided he was going to break it.

“You’re leaving.”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement. He didn’t bother turning to face him.

“Only for a little while. It’ll be two days, tops.”

Keith sighed. “Sure, it will.”

“I mean it. It’s just a routine operation.”

At that, Keith did turn around, making no effort to hid the glance he cast toward Shiro’s prosthetic arm.

“That’s what you said last time.”

It was Shiro’s turn to sigh now. His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel, and Keith knew he struck a chord.

“Keith, this is my _job_. There are people out there I need to help—”

“Yeah? Well, there’s people _here_ too!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Keith saw Shiro’s entire body tense and was instantly flooded with regret. It was selfish of him, he knew, but he didn’t want to lose Shiro. He didn’t think he could bear it. For as solitary a person Keith was, he needed him. He needed that last shred of some semblance of family he so desperately clung to.

“Sorry,” Keith mumbled.

The rest of the short drive passed in silence. Keith spent the entire time wishing he would have just kept his mouth shut, or—even better—that Shiro had never gotten that stupid call. He wished Mr. and Mrs. Shirogane wouldn’t have gone out driving in that thunderstorm five years ago. He wished his own mother would have stayed around and wished his father would have loved him enough to keep him. Keith wished for a lot of things, though he knew wishes were meant for those who were either lazy or stupidly naïve. He liked to think he hadn’t quite hit that level of hopelessness yet.

“Alright,” Shiro said, and Keith was pulled back to reality.

The truck slowed to a stop in front of Garrison Valley High School. Keith watched students with overloaded backpacks looking like turtle shells meander through the lawn. In the corner behind the dumpster, some freshman was being beaten to a pulp by some meathead in varsity jacket, and sitting on one of the benches out front were Rolo and Nyma. Keith groaned, then turned to Shiro.

“Can’t you just take me with you?”

Shiro’s answering smile was soft but undoubtedly a bit sad. “You know I can’t do that.”

“I don’t care if it’s dangerous,” Keith huffed, “and if I die, that’s even better. They can’t make me take quizzes if I’m dead.”

“I’ll be the first to agree that death probably beats the American education system,” Shiro replied, “but no. You’re staying here, staying in school, and staying _alive_.”

“Fine, but you have to do the same.” Keith dropped his gaze to his lap. “You have to come back.”

“Don’t I always?” Shiro asked, giving Keith’s shoulder a signature Dad Squeeze.

“In _one piece,_ this time.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“You always do, you overachiever.”

Both of them couldn’t help but smile at that, and Keith unbuckled his seat belt to lean forward and properly embrace Shiro. It wasn’t often he initiated contact, let alone anything so affectionate, but he figured he’d make an exception this once. A second or two passed before he felt Shiro’s arms wrap around him in return, and he buried his face into the crook of his brother’s neck.

“It’ll be fine,” Shiro said, patting Keith’s back.

Keith pulled away with glassy eyes. “I can’t believe you’re making me ride the bus.”

“Oh, the humanity.”

Keith allowed himself to laugh, then reached for his bag. He pulled the straps over his shoulders and gave Shiro one last glance before pushing the door open and hopping out of the truck.

“Hey,” Shiro called before Keith could slam it shut. “You and me, Keith.”

Keith grinned. “You and me.”

He shut the door and stood on the sidewalk until the truck rounded the corner and disappeared from view. There he remained until the distant sound of the bell ringing caught his attention, and he turned to head off to class with his hands shoved in his pockets. Before he did, though, he looked out along the road once more.

“You and me, Takashi.”


End file.
